


Tether; Dolour

by ephemeraltoxic



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Slow Burn, readerdiscretionadvised, realenemies, theykindofwanttokilleachother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:09:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29631654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeraltoxic/pseuds/ephemeraltoxic
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger are involuntarily acquainted when Hermione stumbles upon him in the Prefects' Bathroom. Due to an unfortunate discovery of Draco's state of mental health by the Ministry of Magic, he is forced to be bound to Hermione Granger until the end of 8th year.
Relationships: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to warn everyone that this is enemies to lovers, as mentioned in the tag. I'm trying to write this as realistic as possible, which means that it will take many chapters for them to develop their relationship. I feel like when some authors write enemies to lovers, they usually don't genuinely write the enemies portion of the story. Also, there will be references of self harm so reader discretion is advised. 
> 
> It's all about the yearning. 
> 
> Enjoy!

There was water everywhere.

Hermione was just exiting one of her classes when she stopped in her tracks. There was perspiration between her eyebrows and her hands had become clammy. Although she was exhausted, she was filled with purpose and determination to head to the library to get a kickstart on her 8th year Arithmancy project. However, when she felt water seeping through her shoes, stopping just below her knees, her resolve began to waiver. 

It was Parvati that spoke first, her eyebrows raised as she scanned their surroundings. “What do you think happened?” 

Hermione shrugged in response. Both the girls could see their reflection in the water. 

“Well I’m not sticking around to find out. I’m sure the teachers will get around to it.”

“Yeah.” Hermione responded, her fingers were gripped tightly on the spine of her textbook. “I left something in one of the classrooms earlier.I’ll join you in the dorms later.”

Parvati grasped Hermione’s wrist firmly. “You really shouldn’t go,” Parvati said worriedly. “We could come back for it later.” 

“It’s okay. I’ll see you.” 

Hermione didn’t know what caused her to do it, but she ran swiftly despite Parvati calling desperately after her.

  
  


—

She found the source of the flooding water. 

It was the prefects’ bathroom on the fifth floor. Halfway through Hermione’s erratic breathing, she had reminded herself that it could have been just another pipe leak. A student could have just accidentally cast a spell that blasted one of the sinks in the bathroom and left the scene in fear of the consequences. 

She thought she was being stupid — running frantically towards the Prefects’ bathroom. In fact, she was two seconds flat from leaving the scene when she heard it —

It was a whine of agony; a muffled cry. It was a noise that was extremely excruciating that Hermione could not bring herself to walk away. Her shoes sloshed through the water. She had to know who it was that was intensely suffering.

She peered through the door and put one foot in.

“What—,” she uttered under her breath, becoming more breathless as the seconds passed by. 

There was blood on the floor and it was slowly soaking in the water. The hues of red were becoming more concentrated as she continued walking towards the source. There were red stains splattered across the white porcelain tiles of the bathroom. 

In the middle of it all was Draco Malfoy, splayed cross the floor. His shirt had been soaked in his own blood. His forearm was cut open and his mouth was ajar. He looked as though he was at the brink of death — the only sign of him being alive was his chest that was heaving. It was forcing a breath in his lungs and forcing a breath out. 

Hermione was shaking. Her knees wobbled as she processed the traumatising scene in front of her eyes. She shut her eyes and turned away, clenching her fists together until her knuckles were white. She forced herself to come to her senses and pinched her arm to prevent herself from fainting. 

“ _Expecto Patronum_ ,” Hermione whispered shakily. An otter burst through the tip of her wand, wisping in the air. She uttered her words hastily, her sentences almost slurring. “This is head girl Hermione Granger. I’m calling for any of the teachers that are within the Hogwarts walls. There is a boy in his 8th year bleeding to death in the Prefects Bathroom on the fifth floor. If you see this Patronus, I’m calling for your assistance.”

The Patronus faded away as quickly as it formed and Hermione covered her mouth with her hand, forcing herself to turn around. 

_Please be alive._

She knelt down and bit her lip. His body was almost fully immersed in the water. She scooted closer to him, put her forearm under the back of his shirt and raised the upper half of his body onto her knees. Draco choked out blood from his mouth. 

Hermione exhaled in relief. Draco’s eyes started to open yet he was struggling to speak. Hermione was already grasping a bottle of dittany in her hands. It became a habit of hers ever since the Second Wizarding War. 

She muttered an incantation that caused his shirt to slice open and applied two drops of Dittany on his chest, his forearm and his stomach. 

After one minute, the flesh that was cut open and raw began to scab. Hermione placed her cold hands on his face, shaking his body, attempting to force him awake. 

“Please wake up,” she cursed under her breath when his head dropped to the floor limply. “You wake up right now, Malfoy — this is crazy even for you!” 

She could hear the sound of footsteps coming closer and she exhaled a sigh of relief. When she turned around, Professor Flitwick and Headmistress McGonagall had arrived. 

But her soul had just left her body. 

  
  
  


Hermione awoke to the blinding sunlight that streamed through the windows of the Hogwarts Infirmary. There was the bustling sound of a medical cart headed towards her direction. 

“Miss Granger, you’re awake.” One of the Healers had announced. “i expect you’re feeling a little drowsy at the moment.” She opened a cylindrical container and poured liquid in one of the plastic cups on Hermione’s table. The Healer placed the liquid in Hermione’s hands. 

“Drink up — and try not to spit it out.”

The second the liquid touched her tongue, she gagged. Nevertheless forced herself to swallow the potion. “Thanks.” The bitterness of the potion would linger on her tongue until lunch.

The Healer moved her cart to the next patient. Hermione was about to lay back down in her cot when she heard a whine from across the room — a very _discernible_ whine that could only belong to one person.

“This is disgusting,” she heard Malfoy say. When she peered her eyes to look at the scene, she saw him using his hands to swat the Healer away from offering him his medication. “Why do I have to drink this? It tastes like Goblin’s piss!” 

“It’s to cope with the blood loss Mr Malfoy — trust me when I say this; I wouldn’t give you this unless I absolutely had to. You’ve however lost too much blood!”

“But it tastes like piss!” Draco retorted and his nose scrunched up as he protested. The Healer merely sighed, holding his chin firmly, tilting it upwards and forcing the Potion down his throat. It looked as though she’d done this more than once. He gagged and spat the liquid out almost instantly. 

Hermione couldn't help but scoff at his childish behavior. 

At that, Malfoy turned his head in Hermione’s direction. He hadn’t noticed her presence until he heard the tone of her voice. His eyes narrowed into slits as he spoke. “And what the fuck are you supposed to be looking at, Granger?”

She didn’t respond immediately. He wasn’t worth her time. But with every growing moment of their 5 years of acquaintanceship, she was getting bored of staying silent. Hence, she coughed out.. “It appears that I’m looking at a child,” 

“Say that again Granger and I swear to God those bunny teeth will seem like a walk in the park—“ Draco forced his body out of his cot, placing his feet on the cold tiled floor. Hermione flinched as he grabbed his wand from his bedside table — she had misplaced hers. 

“Not so fast, Mr Malfoy.” Professor Mcgonagall said, casting a wandless spell to strap him back to his hospital cot. Malfoy groaned in frustration. The back of his head hit his pillow thunderously. Hermione winced. “I would sit still if I were you. Miss Granger did save your life after all.” 

Malfoy paused. There was a sharp intake of breath as his eyes widened at the revelation. He pointed his index finger at Hermione, one of the corners of his lips twitching. “ _Granger?!_ You’ve got to be fucking _mad.”_

“Well these are mad times.” The Professor quipped back. “Certainly mad enough that you didn’t die on that bathroom floor, Mr Malfoy — your blood was splattered across the walls like a painting!” 

Draco bit his lip, refusing to face her. He crossed his arms in annoyance. 

“The Professors will begin investigations on the matter. Do you happen to know who was the perpetrator behind the attack, Mr Malfoy?” 

He shook his head as he let out a scoff. There was something in his demeanour that left Hermione unsettled. He answered. “No, Professor.” But his eyes spoke louder than his words. Hermione seemed to be the only one that noticed. 

“Well if you recall anything, do let me know. I’ll be off now.” The Professor concluded. However, before she made her leave, she turned to face Hermione with a disappointed expression; a look Hermione was familiarized with all throughout her life as a student. “-- and Miss Granger, I hope I need not remind you of not traipsing into dangerous situations alone?” 

“No, Professor.” Hermione croaked out. “I’ll be sure to be careful from now on.”

“Good.” McGonagall then walked off, sashaying her big black robes as she walked out of the Infirmary. 

Hermione stood up from her cot, clad in her hospital robes and approached Malfoy with caution. She was completely aware of how at odds the two of them were and frankly, a little fearful of how he might take it being two feet away from her.

Nevertheless, she managed to croak out; her back stiffed. “Someone did hurt you, didn’t they?” Her voice was careful and steady. 

Draco refused to meet her eyes. The corners of his lips formed a grimace. “As if I would ever tell you, Granger.” He sneered and turned the other way. 

Hermione exhaled in exasperation. It’s not as though she expected Draco to be grateful. However, she did save his life. Had she been minutes too late, he would have died. 

  
  


______

She thought it was the end of their encounter in the Infirmary. 

It wasn’t until she received a Patronus from the Headmistress to meet her at the Headmistresses Office that she came face to face with Draco once again. Malfoy’s posture was hunched. He looked unreservedly perturbed with one of his thumbs in his mouth. 

She sat in the chair opposite the Headmistress while Draco was seated on her left. 

“You’re fucking joking,” Draco said under his breath, turning his head left and right as he analysed his surroundings. Hermione was a little scandalised at his language with Professor McGonagall because she had just taken her seat and yet he was already causing a scene “ _Her?_ No way!”

Hermione tried her best to hold back her tongue. “I’m sorry for being late Headmistress, had a little errand to run before I came here.” She eyed Malfoy up and down. “What’s this about?” 

“Unfortunately I have a little sad news to relay to you Miss Granger.” The Headmistress’ tone had become sad, almost pathetically so. Her glasses were pitched in the bridge of her nose. “I’m sure you can recall the incident that took place approximately two weeks ago where you found Mr Malfoy in the Prefects’ Bathroom.” 

Malfoy raised his feet on the chair, slouching. His blonde fringe covering his grey eyes.

“Well, upon thorough investigation.” She said, exhaling. “--and an inappropriate use of Veritaserum on the part of the Ministry =, which I do not condone of on a student.” Professor McGonagall uttered as she stared at Malfoy who was scowling “-- we’ve discovered that the actions were committed by none other than Mr Malfoy himself,” 

Hermione gasped as she turned to face him. Malfoy grimaced and Hermione turned her face back to the Headmistress. “It was self harm?” 

“I’m not crazy.” Malfoy said in an outburst. His voice reverberated across the room as he slammed his palms on the glass table. “I’m not insane!” 

Hermione flinched as Malfoy’s anger resulted in an accidental burst of magic. Several glasses on the table broke. One of the shards of glass cut into Malfoy’s skin. 

The Headmistress looked unfazed. “No one here is claiming you are, Mr Malfoy.” The Headmistress responded. “But the Ministry has insisted that you need a support structure; a person to ensure that you’re going to classes, and have good mental health. Miss Granger would be the best for this matter.”

“I’m sorry Headmistress.” Hermione interrupted, her fingers drumming the glass table. “But I don’t think I quite understand - you want me to,” Hermione tried to grasp for a better word to describe the baffling arrangement. “Assist him in school?” 

“Not assist, Miss Granger - provide a support structure.” The Headmistress waved. “You will be grouped together for assignments, walk together to classes, befriend one another, share a dorm with one another-” 

“A dorm?!” Both Hermione and Malfoy exclaimed in unison. 

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall said in a clipped tone. “It would honestly be good to monitor Mr Malfoy and get to know him better.” 

Hermione couldn’t fathom the arrangement that was presented in front of her. “I’m sorry Headmistress,” She said. “With all due respect -- wouldn’t a boy be better? I couldn’t possibly watch out for him the whole day.” 

Malfoy raised his eyebrows, putting his feet on the stool in front of him. “Finally something that we agree on, Granger— I think Theodore Nott would be the perfect fit in assisting me. Steady mind, that chap.” Hermione ignored his statement, blowing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m afraid, the Ministry has insisted that it be Miss Granger.” The Headmistress concluded. “It’s not that Mr Malfoy is not to be trusted to be by himself — but rather, that these are grave acts of self harm that cannot be ignored.” 

“But why wouldn’t a _boy_ be better?” Draco insisted.

“Because your friends will always cover for you, Mr Malfoy!” The Headmistress slammed her palms on the glass table, standing up. “And frankly speaking Mr Malfoy, I have high regard for Miss Granger’s integrity and formidable talent at dueling.”

“How does that relate to anything that we’re discussing here?” He raised his voice. 

“If you want to coerce anyone to lie on your behalf, you can’t possibly coerce her.” The Headmistress warned. 

Hermione bit her bottom lip, peering over at Malfoy who was still seated on the chair opposite of her with his knees drawn up. 

“This is clearly not permission you’re seeking Headmistress - you’re just informing us.” Malfoy scoffed and clucked his tongue. “Fine, whatever the fuck then.” 

“Mr. Malfoy-”

“Just tell me when it fucking ends.” He said coldly, putting his legs on the floor. 

“Until the end of 8th year.” 

Hermione wanted to bite her tongue down until it bled. Malfoy sighed. “ Fine,” he said, defeated. “Just tell us the sleeping arrangements so I can move my stuff.” 

Hermione felt morose. She wanted to resist this just as much as he did but it seemed that the Headmistress was set. 

“Very well then,” Professor McGonagall concluded. “Your rooms will be on the 5th floor corridor. It won’t be so far from the Slytherin dungeons or the Gryffindor Tower.” 

The Headmistress inaudibly said an incantation and from the tip of her wand burst a golden thread. It looped around Malfoy’s wrist and hers, bringing his left wrist and Hermione’s right wrist closer together. The Headmistress flicked her wand once more and the golden thread disappeared.

Malfoy pinched his wrist slightly and Hermione winced at the contact. 

“What is this, Professor?” Hermione said nonplussed. Draco continued to pinch his wrist harder and Hermione hissed. “Will you _stop_ doing that?” 

“That, Miss Granger is a tether. It’s primary purpose is to alert you if Mr Malfoy decides to inflict any harm on himself. If any events such as the one that happened in the Prefects’ Bathroom happens again, you would know.” 

“Professor, I don’t mean to be rude but.” Hermione chose her next words carefully. “But wouldn’t I feel an insurmountable amount of pain if he decides to hurt himself?” 

“You will.” She licked her lips. “But you will alert me if you do. If you feel pain, all you have to do is utter _dolor_ and cast this wand movement.” The Headmistress demonstrated the wand movement; one hand movement upwards - a simple spell; Hermione noted. “--and I will find you.” 

\---

They were ushered into the new dorms within the next few hours. Hermione had fit everything that she needed with an extendable charm on her beaded bag. Malfoy on the other hand had shrunk all of his belongings to bite sized pieces. 

They were in the midst of unpacking their belongings. Mafloy had lit a fire in the middle of the common room. As Malfoy had entered the dorms first, he chose the bedroom on the left side, casting an incantation to change the colour of his bedpost from grey to silver and green - a very predictable choice. 

Hermione didn’t mind the colour. In her mind, a sunlight yellow would be beautiful, house pride be damned. Draco was about to close the door to his bedroom but paused. 

He turned his head to face her. He was gripping his wand so tightly and Hermione could feel her skin itching and burning. 

“You should have left me to die there, Granger.” 

He slammed the door to his room. Hermione stood there in shock for a few minutes

It was too cruel for her to think the same as he did. 


	2. Chapter 2: Observations

Hermione was in the middle of tying her tie into an oriental knot in her bedroom at six thirty in the morning. She should have mastered this by now; it has been six years since she was enrolled in Hogwarts after all, and yet after fifteen minutes, she was still unsuccessful in knotting her tie. She took out her wand, casting it over her neck and the tie magically knotted beautifully. 

She stepped outside of her bedroom and stood by the corridor, awaiting Malfoy. From her peripheral view, she could see that he had just tucked in his white linen shirt into his black trousers. She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t close the door. He was already wearing his shoes. 

He slung the strap of his backpack across his right shoulder and grabbed his tie from his bedpost. As he shut the door to his bedroom, he stopped in his tracks when he saw that Hermione was patiently waiting for him on the leather sofa in the common room. Hermione turned to face him as he gracefully knotted his tie with his hands. 

“What the fuck are you staring at, Granger?” His tone was condescending as he spoke. 

Hermione cleared her throat. “I’m actually waiting for you,” she didn’t want to look in his direction as the words slipped her mouth. “We’re supposed to head to breakfast together.” 

“You’re not seriously considering that I walk to breakfast with you?” He snickered, his hands deep in his pockets. He leaned against the wall. “I can’t believe you’re actually serious about following through with this babysitting job.” 

“It’s Ministry mandated,” Hermione commented wryly. 

“It’s also utter bullshit.” He taunted, his tongue digging into the side of his cheek. 

It’s not as though Hermione didn’t know that this entire arrangement was deranged and insane. Hermione was essentially Draco Malfoy’s chaperone for the entire 8th year. The Ministry and the Headmistress were acting as though she didn’t have any other plans. She had already mapped out the entirety of her school year the previous year and now it interfered with her plans. 

“Would you just comply, Malfoy?” She said, exasperated. “I want this over with as much as you do.” 

Malfoy smirked, side-eying Hermione before walking through the tapestry of their dorm. 

  
  


\-----

She never noticed him before the incident in the Prefects’ bathroom and now she knew why. 

Draco Malfoy skulked in the hallways. 

He insisted on using the route that the least people accessed in order to get to the Great Hall. The floors were dusty, which did horrible things to Hermione’s allergic rhinitis and she was sneezing throughout the way. The route was dimly lit, especially in the wee hours of the morning and Hermione had an eerie feeling. 

When they pushed through the doors leading to the Great Hall, Draco immediately headed towards the Slytherin table. Hermione echoed his footsteps. 

They were seated abreast from one another, slowly picking up food that magically appeared on the lazy susan. 

“And what do we have here?” Blaise cheerfully sat opposite of them and started whistling, raising his eyebrows. 

He hurriedly placed pancakes on his own plate and munched loudly. Hermione was already prepared for the sneers and endless jostles from the Slytherin House. She was taken aback when Blaise merely acknowledged her presence with a nod and proceeded to converse with Malfoy in an animated fashion. “You have no idea how much I craved pancakes last night. By the way, did you manage to finish Slughorn’s essay last night on the experimental uses of unicorn hair on the reversal of cursed wounds? Could I copy off yours?” 

“For fuck’s sake Blaise,” Malfoy brought his right hand to his temple, massaging it carefully; the tone of his voice clearly irritated. “It’s seven in the morning.” 

“Yeah but I haven’t figured it out and I’m too swamped to head to the library. Besides, it’s due today and none of the others are as good as you - well besides Granger of course.” 

Hermione tried to hide the smile that was forming on her face. 

“I haven’t done it.” Malfoy replied nonchalantly, taking another bite of his eggs. “He could fail me for all I care.” Hermione gasped slightly and her eyes widened. She couldn’t possibly fathom a grade other than an Outstanding. She was surprised that Malfoy would say such a thing - he was the only other person who was as academically driven as her, ranking second place, directly behind her. 

“You don’t mean that,” Blaise also had the same thought as hers apparently. “If you fail, Theodore and I will too. Adrian’s already failing but that’s not a surprise now, is it,” 

“Then fail.” Malfoy replied as-a-matter-of-factly, stabbing his bacon forcefully and placing it in his mouth. 

Hermione continued to observe the light banter that Blaise provided towards Malfoy. However, she noticed that he wasn’t keen on listening. He merely nodded a couple of times and scowled other times. 

“Cheer up, Malfoy.” Blaise playfully said as he tried to reach over to Malfoy and ruffle his hair. Before his hand could come into contact with Malfoy’s head, Malfoy’s hand clamped over his friend’s wrist as he hissed. “Don’t touch me,” 

Blaise backed away. He sighed, looking defeated. He bit his lip and carried himself away from the table. 

Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek. If he was going to treat friends that he knew for years that way, she was bound to be his next punching bag for the rest of the year. 

  
  


\------

The both of them were in Ancient Runes class. It was an elective for students. This was the reason why Hermione found it strange that Malfoy was there too. 

Hermione was perfecting the transcription of the Runes on a piece of parchment. Malfoy on the other hand, had his head on the piece of parchment. He appeared to be sleeping. However, his quill was still furiously writing on the parchment. He had charmed it to write from his thoughts. An impressive spell, Hermione thought; not that she was ever going to admit it to him. 

She huffed and went back to her work. She dipped her quill in a bottle of ink and continued writing. She couldn’t resist from peering over at Malfoy’s parchment, a mere five inches away from her as they were seated next to each other yet again, on the orders of the Ministry. 

“I still don’t understand why we have to be seated next to each other all the time, do you?” She attempted to engage in conversation with him whilst writing. He didn’t respond but she knew he was listening given the fact that the movement of his quill came to a halt. 

She continued. “It’s just that - it genuinely feels like babysitting, as you said earlier,” Draco let out a breath of exasperation. Hermione paused before proceeding. “It’s like -- I have to sit with you in all our classes together. And it’s worse that we share _all_ of the same classes; which means we even share the same breaks together. I don’t even know why you’re taking ancient runes. It’s an elective--” 

“You’re right,” He hummed. “It’s not like I’ll be able to slit my throat with you breathing down my neck.” 

Hermione bit her lip as she furiously wrote on her parchment. She never felt comfortable talking about the prospect of death; especially since many of her friends had died in the war. It was difficult to process that Malfoy could do so in a calm and relaxed manner. It shouldn’t be something to be said so carelessly. The conversation was also extremely uncomfortable taking into consideration that it was the first thing that he said to her that day.

He lifted his head from the wooden table. “Could I borrow some of your ink? I ran out.” 

“Sure,” Hermione agreed and grabbed the bottle of ink that was situated near her right elbow. 

When Hermione turned to Draco on her left with the bottle held tightly in her hand, she stammered when she saw his complexion. It was pale; he looked sick. She stammered. “You’re - you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Draco blinked, looking completely unfazed. Professor Bathsheda Babbling was calling the attention of students at the front of the class in order to brief them with their upcoming term assignments. Most of the students had ceased writing and put their attention on the blackboard. Draco did the same. 

For the first time, Hermione wasn’t paying any attention. She balked. She pointed at his nose and stared down at his parchment. There were drops of blood on it. The blood trickled down his nose to his neck and on his white linen shirt. 

“Oh well,” He wiped the blood stains carelessly with the back of his hand. “Guess I’ll just have to wash this off later.” 

He continued his work as though nothing had happened. His quill elegantly writing down the notes on the blackboard - his chin covered in his own blood as he took out a handkerchief from his pocket and covered his face. 

The handkerchief was stained red. It happened so often that no matter how many times Malfoy had tried brushing it off, the colour remained. 

It didn’t matter anyway, he thought. He was going to keep bleeding tomorrow. 

  
  
  


\----- 

One of the few times that Hermione saw Malfoy at peace was when he was reading near the Black Lake. The wind would tousle in his hair, he would smile to himself at some parts of the book and lick his finger, placing it on a page before flipping to the next one. 

Hermione hated being near the Black lake. It was cold, she was freezing but Malfoy easily slipped his foot in the cold lake as his head bopped to a beat she could not hear. 

“What are you reading?” She asked, peering over his shoulder. There were stains of red at the top of the pages too, Hermione observed. 

“Maybe stop talking to me and I’ll tell you,” 

_That doesn’t make any sense,_ she thought as she went back to her own book. She cast a warming charm on herself and her mug of coffee that was running cold. She took a sip from the mug only to spit it out a few seconds later. There was a snail at the bottom of her mug. 

Draco gave her a sly smile and rubbed palms together to keep warm. 

“Did you -” Hermione said in utter disbelief. “Did you put something in my mug?” 

“That would require effort; which I do not have.” he said as he splashed her with his foot slightly. “But _occasionally,_ I make the effort.” He smugly commented. 

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Hermione covered her mouth in order to prevent herself from spilling her vomit all over the grass. “Don’t come near me or any of my belongings ever again.”

Hermione shut her book with a loud thump and walked away from him. “You could have just said you didn’t want to be near me. You could’ve poisoned me!” 

“Why tell you when I could show you.” He dramatically tipped his head down and presumed reading his book. 

He was an extraordinarily difficult person to be around. It was as though he kept continuously pushing people away. The only time that he would not push people away was when he was being absolutely aggravating or wanted something from others. Hermione couldn’t understand what she had done wrong to warrant him to put a snail in her mug. Did he think it was amusing? 

She was immensely pissed off at his sense of humour that she grabbed the spine of his book and attempted to throw it into the Black lake. Due to her bad aim and let’s be honest, her lack of trying, it hit the grass, mere millimeters from being immersed in the water. 

She didn’t even have time to process that his right hand had wrapped around her throat. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos everyone! Comments are highly appreciated. This is my first time writing so I would appreciate the feedback. :)


	3. Chapter 3: Mourn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A slightly long chapter. 
> 
> I think they did it but I just can't prove it.

His grip was strong and aspyxiating. His fingers clenching tightly around her trachea, making it difficult for her to breathe. He was a head taller than her, therefore having more leverage in this situation. He raised body higher, so that she was at eye-level with him. 

  
“Don’t touch my things,” He hissed. Hermione scrambled to release his grip from her throat. She swallowed as he brought her closer to the Black lake, her legs were dangling carefully above the water. She could feel the soles of her sneakers getting wet. 

“You tried to poison me.” She retorted. “Does it humour you? Causing pain to everyone around you.” 

“I think you’re reading into this a little too much. It was a harmless joke.” His grip tightened. “Boo fucking hoo. I put a little bug in your drink to make you leave me alone.” He sardonically laughed. 

“That stunt you pulled however, could have cost me my life.” 

This was it; she was going to die in the hands of Draco Malfoy via strangulation. She closed her eyes, slowly inching her way into her dress robes with one of her hands. “Honestly, you make it too easy, Granger.” 

“Fuck you,” She managed to grasp her wand in a firm grip. Within two seconds, she cursed a hex at his hand, causing boils to appear on the surface of his skin and he hissed in agony. He let go of his grip on her throat and cradled his wounded hand. He shot her a dirty and piercing look. 

“It’s not like I want to be around you all the time you asshole. You’re acting like I chose this.” She was now duelling with Draco Malfoy in the middle of the Hogwarts grounds. He was shooting hexes at her in retaliation to her hex and in response, defensive spells were flowing through the tip of her wand. This was childish. They were acting like children. 

Draco cast a charm that sliced her hair by half. Hermione stopped in her tracks. She grazed the tips of her hair that was now at shoulder length. The length of her hair previously reached below her breasts. She wanted to cry. It took her three years to be able to grow that length of hair. 

He laughed; genuine laughter escaped his lips for doing something despicable. He was absolutely deranged and maddening. 

“It was just a fucking book! You’re acting crazy, Malfoy.” 

“Maybe I fucking am!” He screamed back, digging his fingers into his scalp. It was the first time that he had raised his voice at her in the longest time. “Why don’t you fucking hit me back Granger? C’mon, I know you want to!”

“You’re out of your mind.” Her hand was aching from the amount of non-verbal spells she was casting at the top of her head. If she were to verbally pronounce them, Malfoy would be able to overtake her. 

“Hit me!” He goaded her. He stopped casting for a moment to open his arms out wide and backed away from her, giving her room to cast a spell at him squarely in the chest. “Why don’t you fucking hit me, Granger. You know you want to.” 

Hermione knew he was goading her. She was going to resist this childish behavior. She knew that he wanted her to hurt him, so that he wouldn’t have to do it himself. She shook her head and firmly put her foot down. He stepped closer to her. Hermione wanted to run; she needed to run but her feet could not move. 

When a person landed themselves in a dangerous and precarious situation such as this, people would often think that they could react in either two ways; fight the source of the danger or run. 

However, the reality of the situation was you either fought, ran away or froze. 

And Hermione was absolutely frozen on her feet. She felt as though she had been petrified. She was scared. 

_“Expulso.”_ Malfoy verbally pronounced. A burst of blue light headed in her direction. 

_“Protego,”_ Hermione casted a split second before the spell could hit her squarely in the chest. 

_“Diffindo!”_ He cast with a flick of his wrist and it hit the patch of grass a few inches away from her arm. 

Hermione was confident that she should walk away now. However, she remained in place; letting him take out all of his anger on her. “Fight back, Granger; fucking fight back!” Malfoy’s chest was heaving. Hermione was losing all her stamina to keep fighting.

Hermione exhaled in exasperation. She put one of her hands on her knees and raised one of her hands in defeat. Draco wasn’t satisfied. 

_“Sectumsempra.”_

She wasn’t prepared for such a spell to hit her squarely in the chest. She closed her eyes. However, the pain never came. There was a protective barrier blocking the spell from reaching her. 

She turned to the source of the defensive spell. Theodore Nott had managed to cast a non-verbal Protego to shield her from the dangerous effect of the spell. Draco was at a shock that the spell had not hit Hermione. 

“You know better than anyone to use that fucking spell, Draco. We almost lost you because of it.” a deep baritone voice said. Hermione had never seen Theodore Nott, not ever since she testified against his father at the Ministry trial hearing the year before. He had curly brown hair that sashayed in the wind and his robes were plagued with lovegrass. 

Draco sighed when he saw Theodore holding Hermione protectively with his hand. He looked between the two individuals and thought better against hexing his best friend. He blew a breath out of his mouth and tucked his wand away into his robes. He picked up his book from the grass and walked away. 

  
  


\------

“Are you -- are you okay?” 

Hermione turned to Theodore, giving him a meek smile. “Yeah,” 

They were both at the Great Hall for lunch. Malfoy was sitting at the Slytherin table, going through the book, his eyes only lifting up to see if anyone dared to sit next to him. 

“Thanks for saving me.” 

“No problem,” Nott responded as he stuffed his cheeks with Turkey salad. She had never interacted with Theodore before other than seeing him and Blaise erupt a potion in one of her classes. The entire class smelt of smoke after that and Professor Snape had dismissed the two Slytherins to get cleaned up before rejoining the group. Hermione still remembered laughing about it with Harry, her hair all poofed up and his laugh still ringing in her ears. 

“I’m sorry about Malfoy.” Theodore said. He peered around the Great Hall, witnessing judgemental stares. He was seated at the Gryffindor table after all. It was a rather strange day, Hermione noted. She sipped on her green tea. “He’s been a little different after his mother passed away last year.” 

Hermione stopped sipping her drink. “I didn’t know.” 

Theodore gave Hermione an apologetic look. “He’s been rather -- erratic. Truth be told, I’ve been avoiding him.” 

“You and everyone else.” Hermione added and shook her head. “I can’t imagine anyone wanting to be around him right now.” 

Theodore solemly nodded. “He needs psychological help. But he’s refusing to see Healers and anyone that has any credentials in assessing his mind.” 

Hermione scoffed and turned to face Theodore. She placed her hands on her lap. She saw Ginny from across the hall. Ginny was skipping, excited to see her but paused and sat next to Neville when she realised who Hermione was conversing with. Hermione was grateful at her best friend being able to read social cues. “I just don’t understand why he would try to kill me. It’s not my fault his mother died.” 

“He’s lashing out; grieving for her death and blaming everyone for it.” 

“Well fuck him,” Hermione cursed outwardly. “I could have him expelled for what he did to me.” 

“Him being expelled could breach the terms of his probation. He could go to Azkaban.”

“Azkaban then,” She concluded. She regretted encouraging Harry to testify for Malfoy’s behalf. She should have left him to rot in Azkaban prison. It hurt her to think that even on his probation, he still remained the same. Nevertheless, what did she expect? That he had changed and been remorseful? 

“I don’t care where he goes as long as it’s far away from me.” It hurt her to say those words about anyone. However, she could not prevent the words from escaping her lips. It was too painful to want to help someone. 

Theo sighed and shook his head. He peered over at Malfoy who was staring at him absentmindedly. He returned his head and stuffed his nose in the book he was reading. “He’s depressed, Granger. He’s mourning.” 

“Being depressed is not an excuse to be a terrible person.” Hermione had lost her parents too. Not in death; but it was pretty close. What was left of them was a shell. They couldn’t remember her after she had removed their memories. 

Hermione packed all of her things in a bag and left the table to head to the library. She felt her skin itching and burning from the hex that she had stung Draco with. 

She ignored the painful feeling of cuts on her right forearm. 

Draco had carved marks on his skin with a pocket knife in his robes.

  
  
  


\------------

  
  


Hermione kept scratching her arm, it seemed that the itching was worsening by the second. At one point, in the library, she had stopped writing and covered the palm of her hand on her mouth because it hurt so much. 

“Are you okay Hermione?” Harry had asked her, looking up to see her contorted expression. She was always grateful for Harry. He had always been attentive to even the slightest of her reactions. Ron was away playing Quidditch for the Chudley Cannons meanwhile Harry had decided to finish up his N.E.W.T examinations in order to become an Auror. She was happy that he still wanted to pursue his dream. “Also did you cut your hair recently?”

“I’m fine.” she continued reading, hoping to God that the damage wasn’t as bad as she hoped. “And yeah - just this morning. It was impulsive,” She said, glossing over the fact that it was either her hair or her arm being sliced off. 

Harry placed his hands atop of hers and brushed it carefully. “I heard about the Malfoy situation.” At the mention of his name, Hermione tensed visibly. “Are you alright? Do you need me to keep an eye out for you?” 

“No,” she reassured him. “I’m good, Harry.” 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip before closing his book shut. “Hermione I want to talk about what happened between you and Ron.” 

Hermione gulped and pushed his hand away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “What’s there to talk about?” 

Harry paused. “He said that you two broke up before the semester started.” He cast a quick Muffliato in order to prevent the conversation from being overheard by others. It was difficult for him to be around her lately due to his recent popularity and his triumph and feat over the Dark Lord. “He told me that you said you felt guilty for what happened when he left us on the Horcrux hunt. You told him we slept together, didn’t you?” 

Hermione recalled the incident as it flashed in front of her eyes. She was crying on the floor in the Forest of Dean, shivering and cold. She couldn’t believe that Ron had walked away from everything - from their friendship, from her. She felt betrayed and morose. It had been the three days since he had left and she was lonely and it all felt hopeless. 

Harry had felt the same way. It was years of friendship thrown away by a single fight that involved their loved ones. He felt as though it was his fault; dragging his friends across England in order to find Horcruxes when they could have been anywhere. He should have let them hide. He should have gone alone. He shouldn’t have let them lay their lives for him. It was an immense amount of guilt he should have bore by himself. 

Hermione and Harry had cried and talked for hours. They listened to the wizarding radio, trying to forget the pain the world had offered them at the delicate age of seventeen. He placed his hands on her waist and she placed her head on his shoulder. 

When the music had simmered away in the background, they had stared into each other’s eyes. Hermione had never felt more at home than she was with Harry. Just that day, in the cold winter snow, she had crawled inside a blanket, reading the tales of beedle the bard and suggested that they grew old together. He hummed in agreement, holding her hand. 

It was a blurry mess when the music stopped. She had kissed him first. 

He was shocked at the intrusion of her tongue in his mouth. However, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. He placed his hands on her throat and pushed her against the bed. Her back hit the mattress. 

His head was between her thighs when she chanted, thrusting her hips in his face, moaning over and over again. “Don’t leave me Harry.” 

When her mouth was enveloping his cock as she tears welled in her eyes, trying to feel anything - anything other than numbness and void as he thrusted his face into her mouth, he pleaded. “I need you, Hermione. I need you so much.” In any ordinary circumstance, it would have been a testament to how good she was; but to the both of them, all they needed was to not feel like they had been abandoned.

When he thrust into her for the first time, after months of her being untouched. She sighed into his mouth, claiming. “I love you, Harry - you’d never leave me.” 

When he finished thrusting into her, his come leaking out of her, he uttered under his breath. “Fuck, I love you, Hermione. I love you. I’ll never leave you.” 

Hermione snapped out of her daydream and stared at Harry with a sad look in her eye. He was equally as morose and filled with regret for ever mentioning it. “I did. I told him.” 

“He still loves you,” Hermione knew he was going to say that. Harry always said things like that. 

“But i don’t love him anymore -- honestly, I don’t think I ever did. Not after us, anyway.” 

“You have to try to forget that we happened, Hermione. We have to move on.” 

\----------------

She had ran away from the library trying to forget all about what had happened. She was crying because she had regretted crossing that line with Harry and pursuing Ron, even though she knew she had never felt that way about him. 

When she opened the tapestry to her dormitory, Draco was passed out on the leather sofa, a drink in his hand. She saw that there were cuts on his arms from a silver blade that he was holding. 

She remembered what it was like to be left all over again. To mourn and fuck up and regret every decision you ever made. 

She still hated Malfoy. She always will for some time. 

But she was going to help him, the way Harry and her helped each other that night. She wasn’t going to forgive him for trying to kill her. But she wasn’t going to continue to let him hurt her. To help relieve her pain, she needed to help him. 

She placed a few drops of dittany on his forearms, watching the wounds heal. 

She cried herself to sleep.


End file.
